Heartbeats
by Dove of Night
Summary: I'd never realized before how much effort it took to breathe. To will my heart to beat. All those times I'd come out ahead... and all it took was one rookie mistake to undo it all. (Karrin's perspective) (M for language and darkness) (One-shot)


**A/N: Saw a discussion on Tumblr that gave me some feels and some thoughts...and put together a little something. My very first one-shot, ever. And the first thing I've posted on here in a long, long time.**

I'd never stopped to think about what it sounded like when I was breathing. I had never stopped to think about how hard it was to make my heart beat. It was incredible how something I could do in my sleep had become so impossibly hard suddenly.

I was so _cold_.

I could taste metal and when I couldn't bite back the cough I saw red spray from my lips. That explained that, then.

I could see him, I could see his shield. I could see his face as he screamed his silly faux Latin. I could see him looking over his shoulder at me.

_Oh, Harry. I'm sorry_.

All of these years. All of the battles. All of the moments I'd charged in at his side with a gun in my hand and a shout on my lips. All of the times I'd missed catching a blade or a bullet or a flying fist with my stupid mortal flesh. How had I done it? How had I always gotten out with nothing worse than a broken bone?

And, more to the point, why hadn't I been able to do it this time?

It had been a rookie mistake. I'd chased him out of the building and into the snow without looking. Without seeing what was coming until it was too late.

_I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry._

I glanced down, able to easily see where the bullet had hit. Staring at the blood so impossibly crimson spreading across my shirt like some macabre art project. Was I supposed to be so cold? How could I be so cold when Harry was throwing so much fire? I should have looked around as I ran. I should have done my _job_. I had gotten cocky. I'd had Harry Dresden at my back. The invincible wizard. The man who had once arranged his own murder — and failed to pull it off.

It's hard, when you're around someone like that, not to let it rub off on you. Not to start to feel untouchable. To feel like you can do _anything_.

It was getting strangely hard to breathe. I tried to press my hands to the wound on my chest, but I couldn't apply enough pressure. I couldn't hold my hands up and the fell to my sides again. The snow wasn't helping. I was going to freeze.

_You're dying anyway, Murph._

Yes. Thank you.

Harry was leaning over me now and I hadn't even noticed him move. I hadn't seen him finish off the last of the thralls. _Fucking thralls_. Fucking _humans_. I had let a goddamn mortal put a bullet in my chest. I'd faced down the Wild Hunt. I'd fought every known court of vampire. I'd gone hand-to-hand with the Leader of the Blackened Denarius. I had wielded a sword of God and I'd taken a chainsaw to an animate plant.

And a mortal. A teenager. He'd come out from behind the wall of the building and he'd fired the gun before I'd been able to do a damned thing.

"Murph!" I felt a grimace go across my face as Harry's hands caught under my back and my head, pulling me half into his lap. He smelled like fire, like a campfire. Like when I was a kid, before my dad had died. He smelled like fire and leather and he smelled like Harry Dresden.

"God…" Was that my voice? Why was it shaking so hard? Why was it so thin? "Harry — I can't breathe."

"Yes you can. Yes you can you're breathing fine. You're breathing _fine_." I could hear his voice shaking. I could hear the wheeze as he struggled to keep his tone even. I see his eyes. I could see the way they shimmered in the light. I could see the tears.

"Sure feels like I'm not." I felt another cough bubbling up through my chest and I choked on it. I tried to swallow it back down. It came anyway, blood — it had to be blood — spilling down my chin. I felt the leather as Harry ran his palm across my face. I saw the slick red on his glove.

"_God_, Murphy. _God_. Why did you… It's okay. We'll… we'll get you help. I just…" I could see his face. I could see the panic. It made me want to cry. Or perhaps I already was. I hadn't realized how blurry Harry was until now.

"It's okay," I heard myself whisper.

I wanted to rage. I wanted to scream. _No it isn't okay! It isn't okay! I don't deserve this. I worked so hard. I did so much. I tried _**_so hard_**_._ Why couldn't I win just this once? Why couldn't I have my happily ever after? Why hadn't I been enough this time?

"What am I going to do without my backup, Murph?" I felt his tears hit my face and realized my eyes had closed. I forced them open again, looking up at him. Wishing I didn't feel too weak to reach out for him.

I couldn't speak anymore. I couldn't make the words come. My chest hurt. It was too hard. It was too hard to breathe. It was too hard to make my heart keep moving. It was too hard. I was too tired.

"Murphy _please_. Don't die on me. Don't you dare. Help is coming. It's coming. Please." I looked up at him. I met his eyes. I met his eyes full on for the first time since the night we'd met on the bridge. They were beautiful. I wished I'd been able to look at them more.

I held his gaze, for the first time ever. I held my eyes steady with his and I saw him realize what I was doing. I felt my jaw shake as I met his eyes. His Gaze.

He was smiling. He was _smiling_. I hadn't seen that wild rambunctious grin on his face in so long. That devil-may-care look that he'd used to lure me into scrape after scrape with him. That charming goddamn smile that had gotten me into so much trouble.

His smile was a fierce thing. There was darkness behind him. So _much darkness_. But he stood in it and he kept grinning. He'd always been a good man. No matter how much got piled on top of him. He had been that young man with the broad grin and the fearless notion that if he swung hard enough any problem could be solved.

I felt his arms around me. Those arms that had always made me feel so small and loved and protected — the only time I'd ever let myself feel tiny. I felt him shaking. I smelled his leather. I smelled his fire. I smelled the man I'd loved for so long I'd have followed him to Hell and back again — and practically had. A few times.

_Say something_. I heard his voice but it was so far away. I heard my name but it was a ghost of a sound. I tried to speak. _I love you Harry. _I tried to say it. I couldn't.

All I could see was his grin.

And then I couldn't see anything at all.

I felt my next breath come out in a long whisper…and I couldn't draw another.

I wasn't cold anymore.


End file.
